Darkmoon dances
by Vivre Noire
Summary: The god of dark magic may bind his followers to him with something other than magic...(inspired by Raija), a light lemon


Disclaimer: The plot is mine, nothing else. All to TSR and those people.

Moonlight from the white moon glanced off her face as she looked into the night. Her skin shone, pearly, as the last sliver of the moon died away. She was surrounded by darkness, cloaked in its comforting embrace. His embrace. 

Her black robes lay folded neatly by the edge of the glade. He liked neatness in his followers. Her black hair hung straight to her waist, still and dark as the night. She glanced behind her, then tossed a pouch of pungent herbs in the air and muttered spidery words of magic. There was a dull pulsing through the air, and energy crackled on her skin. 

One swift gust of wind tossed the clouds away from his moon. The clearing was filled with a light, but only one she could see. It was a dull light, a dark light. It glimmered dully on the dark stones at her throat, and layered her hair with black upon blacker. Perfect for her. And for him. She raised her pale arms above her head and started to dance.

It was slow, seductive. Her arms weaved through the air, beckoning. Her feet, light as the wind, danced through the grass rhythmic pattern that resembled a serpent. Her breasts moved to her movements, but only the smallest bit, so subtle and smooth were her movements. She continued, making the barest of sounds. The magic sparkled off her skin and surrounded her with a sparkling cloud of dark. 

And then he was there. She never was certain when he would come, so tried her hardest each time. In hopes that he would come. As he was now. His skin was paler than hers, his robes dark upon dark. Black slanted eyes studied her form. She held her breath, keeping her movements graceful. Would he notice the shine of sweat. Or would he sense her fear and desire and go. Please no. Please.

As if hearing her plea, he motioned her toward him, a slight smile gracing his delicate features. She approached cautiously, then knelt before him, head touching his feet. He reached down, touching her bare skin with a slim finger. She shuddered slightly as he traced her spine, fingers reaching up and twining in her hair. There was a pause. She was still, eyes wide against the ground, hoping. 

Then he bent and pulled her to him. His kiss was cold against her heated face. It chilled her, yet thrilled her with images of terror and pleasure. She looked in his eyes, and wondered why she bothered to hide anything. His gaze was intense, invading her mind even as his tongue invaded her mouth. She let out a small cry of pleasure, arching against him. He held up a pale hand. A flash of magic surrounded it, and he smiled darkly, teasingly. He hand moved out of sight even as he bent his head to her breasts. 

His mouth cupped and sucked, the freezing cold making her nipples stand out. He moved his tongue over them, his dark eyes peering upward to regard her gasping face. It was intense pleasure for her. The sight of him, doing it to her. And the feeling…every feeling, every nerve, every cell was concentrated on his dark head bent over her breasts. And then she gasped, feeling his hand between her legs. There was something cold and yet burning in them. Magic flared from under her, and she gasped, her mouth working for air. 

She was now divided between two pleasures. The pleasure he made by sucking was wonderful, but this! This was so pleasurable it was obscene. His fingers worked between her legs, causing her to jerk and moan. The soles of her feet burned white hot, and she gasped at the feelings. She could feel something tightening inside her, the pleasure so great it drove all else out of her mind. She could feel it rising, until she just hung, afraid to breath for fear he would stop. It grew greater and greater. She felt moisture slide down her skin, far more than sweat could produce. She opened her mouth, about to scream the pleasure consumed her…but he stopped. 

He slipped his hand out from under her, shaking the liquid off his fingers. He gave a small shake of his head, and she sobbed openly. So close…how could she have let herself loose control? She hated herself, hated her weakness with every fiber of her body. He was stepping back. She slid back to her knees, head bowed. Tears dripped off her face. A cool brush of lips beside her ear.

"Work on your control child, and I may return. You were…disappointing." 

She flattened herself on the grass, begging his forgiveness. There was no answer, and she sobbed louder. 

"I will do better, I swear. I will not disappoint you again. Ever. Please please, Master, forgive me!"

A touch of cold fingertips on her head, a whispered promise, and he was gone. She slumped, cursing her weakness and praising him for teaching her. She would not fail him again.  


End file.
